


and all i see is him and me

by deadeyedraw



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Pre-Canon, a healthy relationship!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:52:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadeyedraw/pseuds/deadeyedraw
Summary: Gabriel Reyes is a possessive man.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Gabriel Reyes being possessive is my jam. Why do I keep writing McReyes? Someone send help.
> 
> Inspired by this prompt: https://overwatch-kink.dreamwidth.org/679.html?thread=639399

“New record time. Nice work, McCree,” the Strike Commander says, blue eyes scanning the large screen detailing the day’s training reports.

Jesse allows himself a slanted smile; his name is at the top of the leader board, for now. “Reckon it ain’t long before Amari puts an end t’ that,” he drawls easily, hooking his thumbs into his jeans. The woman was currently in the field, but as soon as she was back from the mission, he was sure the sniper would regain her rightful position sooner or later. His smile tipped a little further upwards. At least he’d been making it harder and harder for the woman to dethrone him.

The blond clapped a large hand over McCree’s shoulder – it’d be friendly, if they were friends. “I mean that, though – you’ve come a long way since you joined Blackwatch, Jesse.”

Dark eyebrows shoot up. Oh, sure, he’d changed some. There was that insolence Reyes practically had to beat out of his hide – but once he fell into line, he fell into the unit. Nothing like Deadlock, not at all. One cog meshing perfectly with the other gears – with time came familiarity, and skill.

And, as it turned out, good looks. The blank surprise morphed quickly into a self-assured smile; Jack Morrison wasn’t the first. He wasn’t going to be the last, either. Allowing the warm weight to rest there, the man tipped his head to one side and grinned. “Reckon all that practice was good fer somethin’,” he agreed, knowing will the commander wasn’t referring to today’s aim. “Don’t tell Reyes though – it’ll go t’ his head.” He winked.

“What’ll go to Reyes’ head?” a gruff voice demanded not a beat later. “You tryin’ to poach my agent, Morrison?”

The hand disappeared with the Strike Commander jerked; as imposing as Gabriel Reyes could be, it seemed many forgot that Blackwatch was strictly covert operations. Obtaining absolute silence was just one of the man’s many skills – Jesse dipped his head, hiding his amusement.

“I’m not poaching anyone, Reyes,” the blond barked back, blue eyes narrowing slightly. Within seconds, Gabriel had maneuvered himself directly between the other pair of men, his chest puffed up by fractions. Jesse drew his lower lip into his mouth, chewing on the chapped skin to hide his smile. A rare vision, this; normally, the last place a man would want to be caught was the same room as Strike Commander and Commander of Blackwatch – but this was different. This was not his fault. This was defense.

“That’s right – you wouldn’t need to,” Gabriel sneered, “Strike Commander Morrison doesn’t need to poach anything.”

“Gabriel, that’s hardly--”

“Commander,” Reyes snarled. The dismissal booked no argument. “McCree, with me.”

“Commander,” McCree drawled easily, mischief twinkling in his eyes. Spurs jingled softly behind him as he dogged after superior, forced to lengthen his strides to keep up with the other man’s curious pace. “Reyes, what--”

Before he could finish his sentence, two fists found light blue plaid and hauled him forward. Mouths crashed together with a snarl, nothing kind about the press of teeth and tongue. McCree’s yelp was smothered in another breathless noise as the taste of copper rolled across his tongue. Nostrils flared as they stumbled back, crashing into a door before the cowboy’s hand finally found the older man’s hair.

“Gabriel, what--”

“Shut up, Jesse,” the commander muttered, finally surfacing for a breath. One hand detached from the sharpshooter’s clothes long enough to find the scanner on the door – a moment later, it clicked and hissed softly, both men stumbling through the door. The older man knocked off Jesse’s hat, ignoring his brief grumble of protest as it tumbled to the floor.

“That’s--”

“What did I just say?” Jesse McCree might have shot up like a beansprout, might have filled out something proper in the years that followed, but some things never did change. He met the cowboy’s lopsided grin with another sharp kiss, nipping his probing tongue for his insolence. “You ever keep that trap of yours shut?”

“You’d hate it,” the younger agent laughed, breathing harshly through his nose. Hands trailed down the man’s firm chest, long fingers fiddling with buckles before belts slithered free and hit the floor. He tipped up his chin, nipping at Gabriel’s jawline. “Bored – you’d get bored.”

The older man grunted softly as he used his weight to keep Jesse walking backwards, waving the door shut only as an afterthought. His partner went easily, wandering fingers catching on buttons and zips until he tugged at the hem of Gabriel’s shirt, demanded access. The commander was willing enough to grant his lover this, pulling the black undershirt away to join his hoodie on the floor. Jesse matched him a second later, button-up tossed haphazardly before Gabe planted one hand in the middle of the cowboy’s chest and pushed, toppling the man back onto the bed. “You’re attracting a lot of attention, vaquero,” he rumbled, one thick brow raising upwards as he moved to join Jesse on the bed, quickly straddling the man’s hips.

Jesse couldn’t help his chuckle, tipping his chin up easily to bare his neck. “Who knew all that trainin’ would be good for somethin’, huh?” he replied cheekily. “Ain’t my fault Morrison’s got wanderin’ eyes, ‘m a—Ahh!”

A breathy gasp cut off the trail of though, Gabriel’s sharp teeth sinking into the exposed column of his lover’s throat. He worried his teeth down against tender skin, relishing in the aborted bucking beneath his weight. As he pulled back, he soothed the offended skin with his tongue – already bright red, that would be sure to bruise in but a few hours. “Don’t talk about him,” Reyes grunted, shifting slightly to leave another mark only an inch or two away. “You don’t belong to him, McCree.”

“He--” Jesse grunted softly as his partner bite another mark, this time into the junction of neck and shoulder. Tipping his head further, he strained into the sharp blossom of pain, relishing the knowledge that the mark there would not fade for weeks, not with the effort Gabriel was currently putting in. He rolled his hips upwards a second time, cock twitching with a growing interest in the situation. “Shit, Gabi, y’ really ain’t encouragin’ me t’ quit it, y’know that? Markin’ me all up.”

“You like that, Jess?” Gabriel growled into his skin, dark eyes flashing as he left another mark, and another still. “You like it when I mark you up – know who you belong to? So everyone knows who you belong to.”

“Gabriel,” Jesse moaned, bucking his hips, cock straining against his jeans. “Fuck, yeah, Gabi, please--”

“Such a slut for it,” the older man noted, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards as he reared back. The cowboy whined softly at the loss of contact, rocking pointlessly against the air. “Clothes off, Jesse. On your knees.”

Jesse practically jumped to obey, catching himself once on his own jeans as he struggled to kick them off and away. Dark blue boxers quickly followed suit, as did the wool socks, and then the brunet was on his arms and knees, ass presented like a damn gift. He groaned softly, peering over his shoulder at the sound of the bedside stand being opened – teeth flashed in a mild grin. “Slick ain’t in there,” he huffed, reaching under one pillow. Fingers wrapped around the worn bottle, tossing it backwards in Gabriel’s general direction. “Maybe if y’came t’ my room more often--”

“My bed’s more comfortable,” the older man answered automatically, well used to the old argument.

“Then why--”

“Because your room’s closer, McCree. You gonna keep complainin’ or what?” he grunted, snapping the lid open and applying the lube liberally. A moment later, two fingertips pressed to the tight ring of muscle between Jesse’s cheeks, and whatever the cowboy was about to say died somewhere between his mind and his mouth. “That’s what I thought.” Gabriel allowed himself a throaty chuckle, pressing cold fingers in with a low groan. Whatever resistance he met was quickly countered by the insistent rock of his lover’s hips, sinking down on calloused fingers with practiced ease. “That’s good,” he grunted, taking a moment to admire the sight before him – but only a moment, for Gabriel Reyes was not a man known for his endless patience.

He twisted his hand, enjoying the soft squeeze of velvet heat as he began to thrust both fingers. He’d barely given Jesse any time to gain his bearing before adding a third without warning, the following groan like music to his ears. “Tight,” he remarked before pulling his fingers free, grabbing the bottle from the sheets. Lube spilled over his palm and onto the sheets as Gabe fisted his flushed cock, sparing only a moment to tease the leaking tip before tossing the bottle onto the floor and grabbing Jesse’s hip with one hand. He held himself in the other, lining up to that quivering hole before leaning in, sheathing himself in one, fluid motion.

“Fuck.”

Jesse’s entire body shuddered, clenching down on the sudden intrusion. He bowed his neck, pressing his forehead into his arm as he rolled his hips backwards. Gabriel was pressed firmly against his flanks for but a single moment, and then the man dug fingertips into the cowboy’s hips, gripping hard enough to leave dark marks there. “Gabi,” Jesse groaned, eyes fluttering closed as his lover began to move, each thrust sharp and deliberate. “Oh, hell. Gabi. Gabriel…” he crooned, words bubbling free without little thought put to them. “Jes’ like that, jes’ like that, yer so good, y’feel so good--”

Gabriel groaned from above, leaning forward – one arm propped next to Jesse’s shoulder, and he levered most of his weight on the younger agent as he thrust. When the cowboy moaned again, he tipped his head, biting sharply at the shell of the man’s ear. “Good, Jesse,” he crooned, relishing in the shiver that raced down his lover’s spine, that velvet heat gripping him tighter. “You feel so good, huh? So good for me. Just for me.”

He punctuated the statement with a sharp bite to his lover’s shoulder, holding him there as he continued to thrust. The sudden shock of pain ripped a ragged howl free as Jesse rocked back, forcing Gabriel a little deeper. Gabe snarled softly as he pulled free, the impression of his teeth dark in his partner’s skin. Head dipped forward, he rested his forehead there as be doubled his efforts, each thrust met with the slap of skin against skin. “That’s it, baby,” he growled, his voice rough, low. Gravel on stone, smoke on the water, raspy and thick. “Such pretty sounds.”

One hand crept down, wrapping around Jesse’s weeping cock. The older man couldn’t help his feral grin as he shifted, adjusting his grip when his lover jolted at the touch. “Please,” the cowboy gasped, caught somewhere between rocking into the friction, thrusting up back against Gabriel’s thick cock. “Oh fuck, please, Gabriel – y’ feel so good. God, please, please, Gabi--” The younger agent cut himself off with a sharp breath, clenching down on Gabe’s cock as the thick head brushed against his prostate.

Gabriel grinned.

“There?” he rasped, strengthening his thrusts. “That the spot? Yeah, spread those thighs, baby. C’mon, Jesse. C’mon.” When Jesse opened his mouth wordlessly, unable to form sound, he knew. Wrapping his fingers more firmly against his lover’s flushed erection, he began to stroke him in earnest. He brushed his thumb over the head of the man’s cock, slipping his thumbnail across the slit, and Jesse shrieked. 

Cum splattered across Gabriel’s hand, splashed against the sheets, and Gabriel milked him for every last drop of it as he murmured senselessly in Jesse’s ear. The man shook and moaned, clenching down hard on his lover’s cock – Gabe was only a few moments behind, both hands finding Jesse’s hips to ride him down into the mattress. Harder, harder, harder still until orgasm ripped a snarl from his lungs. He slammed his hips flush against Jesse’s, moving in abortive thrusts as his seed splattered the man’s insides, painting white. Marking. Claiming.

“That’s it, carazón,” he grunted, resting his full weight against his lover. A heavy sigh escaped as he nuzzled into the short wisps on the back of the cowboy’s neck. For several minutes, only the sound of panting filled the air, until eventually, the pair of men pried themselves apart.

“I need a smoke,” Jesse finally groaned, levering himself into a sitting position. He made no move to get off the bed, instead leaning into Gabriel’s shoulder. “Tha’ was good, Gabi.”

“It’s always good, Jess,” he grunted – after a moment of mental struggle, he flung an arm around his partner’s shoulders, holding him there. 

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed without hesitation, content with the embrace. “S’always good.”


End file.
